Dead Eyes
by Melody DeMort
Summary: The eyes of a dead soul, a soul that no longer has anything of importance to lose, the eyes of a warrior.
1. prestory

Okay people.. i need a beta, and before i can put out the next chapter, i need someone to look over it. Please leave your aplication in a review. Review forms can be found on my Authors' Page.

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11/14/03 

He looked in a mirror and saw dead eyes, and as you know the mirror shows not lies. Eyes that have changed with the coming of age, coupled with a face that shows naught but pain, skin that stretches and bones that show, scars that mar his body so, starvation, sickness, deprivation, stress. How exactly do they represent this mess?

His face-sallow, sunken skin, showing malnutrition suffered over the years, showing all the tears, the loss of his faith, as he looked at the face of the sad angel-"where is god now" someone had said, and he answered without speaking- " where is he? Here he is- he is hanging here on this gallows…." He was not dead when he saw him, but dying like his faith.

His mind scarred and taunting, his fallen god-" compared to this afflicted crowd, proclaiming you their faith…" bless the eternal, the god that abandons his children. The eternal being that gave them suffering.

The fate of his choices shows what his choices bring. "I learned after the war, the fate of those who had stayed behind in the hospital. They were quite simply liberated by the Russians two days after the evacuation." It was obvious that his operation was meant to be a salvation.

All things show in his eyes, eyes are the window to the soul, a soul shows your life. Your life shows through your dead eyes.

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Okay now.... 

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>>>>>Review! Flame! Critic(although i would apreciate if you didnt)! Anything!


	2. Pondering the Past

**Chapter 2**

Pondering the Past

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It had been years since he had had his innocence. As he lay there, among the Nightshade that littered the stone tablets around him, he pondered his past, and all that it had been.

He wondered if things would have gone different.

He wondered if they would have died, if he would have been able to save them.

_Ron, Hermione, Cho, Terry, Hagrid, Dumbledore…merlin, I can't believe he died like that…_

He gave a short laugh as he gazed upon the words of the stone in front of him.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Anne Dumbledore

1537-2001

_Beloved Father, Husband, Brother, Cousin, Second Cousin, Third cousin; twice removed, Grandfather Headmaster, Savior, Ruler, Annoyance._

"_To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."_

_We pray there are towels in the beyond._

And scrawled underneath that, in putrid green letters, were the words _'I finally got you'_ with a dark mark underneath. Somehow, in the ministry's attempt to cover Albus' death, it had somehow gotten out that he had been killed by Voldemort himself, although, some think it better to think of it that way, because, well, the bastard slipped on the tile coming out of the bath, and conked himself in the back of the head, on his vertebrae. He had died instantly. All the others had died in various battles for the war effort. _Just like I was supposed to be._

He looked to his right to a grave with a fresh mold of dirt

Harry

_Rest finally in death my Friend. _

That was all it had said. No last name, no date. He had watched his funeral. It had been horribly anti-climatic. Everyone had cried. Nobody had believed it. It was perfect.

Now, it was time to start the real work.

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The sky was an overcast gray, as it always seems to be above the city of London. Pidgeons lined the roof top of the building next to him, but scattered as he walked past.

mothers attempted to sheild their children from the site of him in vain, for as we know, we are a curios race. More so, when we are children and heartned by every discovery of our cruel world.

This man seemed, although not a bit disfigured, a natural evil, the kind that seems to scream danger into every pore of your being as they walk past- the kind that makes you recoil in disgust, no matter their physical beauty. and this man was beautiful, for there is no other word to discribe him. dressed in all black, with skin and hair complementary to only snow white, this mysterious spectre was far from what we would envision a hero to be. blood-shot silver eyes, which looked out from a haunted face, gave an unearthly edge to him.

He seemed to wander- and this is true in a way, for he did wander, but unlike those who usually wander to find themselves, he wandered to find his world, the world he knew to be real, but which no-one seemed to remember, or to have forgotten.

He wandered, looking for the one he knew to live, but everyone knew to have died.

He was looking for Harry Potter.

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twinkling eyes- the very ones he would rather pluck from their old, wrinkled head than trust- were beaming down at him as he took the object into his own hands.

_Why?_

But why not? that annoying voice taunted him- the one that stood at the edge of his hearing-deep in the recesses of his own mind where the subconcious hides, and screams those annoying protestations of life at you from its hiding place-Why not?

_Why not indeed?_

staring at the object, he rolled it in his palm, before snapping his emerald eyes to those of his former headmaster.

_No, this is not my headmaster.. mine is dead.but, he does not know that yet..._

"Albus?"

"Yes my boy?" those thrice damned twinkling eyes answered-

_meddling with time... _

"Never mind, just...never mind."

And as he left the office, the one he left behind would wonder for hours about the strange man that had come to his office, and what it was that he had wanted to say...but as he climbed to step his foot from his bath, the only thoughts he endured were those of how odd it felt todie... and why, if his invertibrae had shattered, did it seem so long for death to come.

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okay- sorry about the wait. i really need a beta that bugs me to put out more stories.and Update and stuff. the one i have now is sooooo lazy -' and icanhardly say i am any different.

mmmkay- please review, because, unlike those people that pay for extra features, i have absolutely no idea how many actually read my work.

And it would be really shibby cool to know...oh- i'll give clues about the next chapter to whoever sends me the best death-threat.-

REVIEW!

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